Date: Fri, 22 May 2020 05:43:17 +0000 (UTC)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 514  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – PART 514
By Rob Williams

Chapter 514 – "THE YOUNG MECHANIC'S TRIAL OF STRENGTH"

IN THIS CHAPTER:

The rugged gypsy boss Randy takes off on a bike run with his buddies, the
black leather-master Zack and the macho Hispanic Miguel.  They head to the
desert home of Uncle Mike and his boy Larry, a tough young mechanic.
Larry's a top-man but craves for once to be dominated to prove his strength
and endurance.  In a desert dungeon the three bikers work on him and try to
force the young jock to submit.
___________________________________________________________________


<><>  IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER  <><>

After the big party for the tribe at the Grady House, things were pretty
slow at the tribe's compound.

Work on the company's construction sites had slowed for a week, and the
bosses, Randy and Zack, along with Zack's lover Miguel, took advantage of
this to take a few days off.  They took their Harleys on a motorbike run
out to the desert, to the Palm Springs home of their buddy Uncle Mike and
his boy Larry.

This left Bob, Randy's lover, and co-leader of the tribe, alone with his
boys, the identical twins Kyle and Kevin.  As they eased into what they
called a stay-at-home vacation it wasn't long before things turned sexual.
In a dramatic role reversal the twins `took care of' their master, which
involved the alpha top-man getting fucked at both ends.

Afterwards they dozed together for a while to recuperate and stirred when
the twins' boy Will came in.  The young redheaded chef had taken over the
kitchen in the twin's absence and Kevin asked, "Is everything going OK out
there, Will?"

"All hunky-dory, sir.  Pretty slow, actually, like everyone's taking a
breather between the Grady party and when the heavy lifting starts up again
next week."

Bob asked, "Any word from the biker gang or is it too soon?"

"Actually, sir, Darius got a call from Zack who told him their plans.  When
they get to Palm Springs they're gonna go straight to Uncle Mike's bar `cos
Mike and Larry will be working the lunchtime crowd.  After that they said
something about going out to Hassan's little house way out there in the
wilds of the desert, to check it out."

"More likely check out that dungeon he's got out there in the basement,"
Kyle grinned.  "I'd like to be a fly on those black walls watching Randy,
Zack and Miguel get down and dirty."

"Me too," said Kevin.  "Three hunky leathermen in a desert dungeon –
like the start of a porn movie."

Will frowned in thought.  "You wanna know what I think?"

"Duh!" Bob laughed.  "We always wanna know what you think, kiddo, `cos
you're usually right.  Come on, dude.  Spill."

"Well, it's just a hunch, sir, but I think the action might start before
they even get there.  You know how horny those guys get, with those bikes
throbbing between their legs.  So, they all know that remote place halfway
to the desert where Mark and Jamie always make a pit-stop, and Mark fucks
Jamie over the tailgate of the truck."

"Ah." Bob smiled, "so you've put two and two together and come up with
three – three bikers getting their rocks off together.  You could be
right."

In fact Will was about to be proved right in the semi-desert scrub halfway
to Palm Springs.  On the 10 Freeway more than a few heads in cars turned to
look as the three leather-hunk bikers sped by – the shirtless Randy in
the lead, followed by the black leather-master Zack in a gray tank-top,
then the chiseled Hispanic Miguel, his leather vest flying back off his
chest in the wind.

"Whether by prior agreement or on impulse, Randy led them careening down
the freeway off-ramp onto the small gravel road that led a couple of miles
into the wilderness to a cluster of stunted trees that hid them from the
distant road.  They were alone – no signs of life for miles around.

As Will had predicted they were rampantly horny.  From the start the three
alpha males were high on adrenaline and testosterone, and the roar of the
bikes beneath them had given them all massive boners.  Time to get their
rocks off, then hit the road again.  They pulled up beside each other and
swung themselves off their bikes.

Randy was all business.  He picked three twigs off a sage bush, two the
same length and one shorter. He rolled them in his palms, then held them up
in his fist with only the ends showing.  "Short stick loses, guy gets
thrown across his bike and butt-fucked by the other two, agreed?"

"Agreed," Zack and Miguel chorused.  They each drew a stick and displayed
them.

"Damn," one of them said.  He stood behind his bike and bent forward over
the saddle, his chest on the gas tank.  He reached up, gripped the
handlebars tight and braced himself.


========= CHAPTER 514 =========

<><> THREE HORNY BIKERS <><>

The breeze rustling the dry brush was the only sound in this remote spot in
the semi-desert scrub a few miles off the highway, where the three horny
leathermen had made a pit-stop to get their rocks off.  The powerful bikes
throbbing between their legs always built up a head of steam in their balls
and they needed a quick fuck before heading back to the road.

To decide the batting order they had drawn small twigs, two long, one
short, and the short-stick loser now bent forward over his own bike bracing
for what he knew was coming.  The other two unsnapped his chaps, ripped
open his jeans and pulled them down below his ass.

His ass now on display Randy gripped the handlebars hard and clenched his
jaw as he heard Zack say to Miguel.  "OK, dude, you take the boss's ass
– I'll get the face."  The muscular Hispanic pulled out his rigid cock,
spat on it and stroked it, then walked up behind the victim and drove his
shaft deep in his ass.  Randy gritted his teeth and grunted but made no
other sound.  He had taken much worse than this in his time.

Miguel shucked off his vest and grinned at his lover Zack, the macho black
muscle-god, who pulled off his tank-top, ready for action.  All three
bikers were now shirtless and Zack looked down at the broad muscular back
of the rugged gypsy stretched over his own bike.

Zack stood astride the bike's front wheel, grabbed Randy's shaggy black
hair and pulled his face up.  He stared down at the pale blue eyes in the
chiseled face and growled, "Open up, big guy."  The stubbled jaw sagged
open, Zack ripped open his jeans and shoved his cock in Randy's mouth.

The fuck was without emotion, animalistic, in its lust to simply unload the
pent-up jizz that was straining for release.  These were three equally
tough, solidly built alpha males.  They admired and respected each other as
buddies – in this case fuck-buddies as they prepared to unload their
jizz and get back on the road.

Having drawn the short straw Randy accepted this double fuck as a point of
honor.  Far from resenting the assault, the muscular gypsy felt an even
closer bond with his buddies as two huge cocks pounded in him – one in
his ass the other in his face.

The three alpha leathermen were a pornographic spectacle in the silent
desert – the bare-chested boss of the tribe splayed face down on his
Harley, getting spit-roasted by the dominant black leather-master and his
handsome Hispanic lover.  Miguel stared across Randy's back at Zack's ebony
torso, his rugged features and shaved head – a virile leather icon, his
muscles flexing as he pounded the gypsy's face.

They were all so stoked that it wasn't long before Miguel groaned, "Shit,
you look so fucking hot, man, and this guy's ass feels so goddam good I
gotta spill my load.  I just wanna watch you cum in his mouth.  You ready,
bro?"

His answer was a guttural moan from Zack.  His body tensed as he pounded
the gypsy face and Miguel's shaft pistoned in and out of his ass.  "Fuck,
yeah ... I'm gonna cum ... fuuuck ..!"

Randy's body bucked on the Harley as he felt jizz pumping in his ass and
down his throat. Miguel and Zack exchanged a triumphant grin as their cocks
drained inside their spit-roasted victim.  They pulled out fast and Miguel
pulled Randy off the bike and onto his feet.  He got behind the dazed
gypsy, wrapped his arm's round his chest and linked his hands behind
Randy's neck, trapping him in a full-nelson hold.

Zack faced Randy and said, "Fucking awesome, man."  He locked their lips
together in a ferocious kiss and sucked his own jizz out of Randy's mouth.

Zack then dropped to his knees, reached up and slammed his fists against
Randy's solid pecs.  He squeezed his nipples while sliding his mouth over
the gypsy's huge cock that was already dripping pre-cum.  It was a display
of his admiration for his buddie's strength and endurance, and he sucked
the long shaft all the way down his throat, while Miguel held Randy from
behind.

Randy looked down at the macho black leather-master on his knees sucking
dick, and the sexually-charged image pushed him over the edge.  He threw
back his head and uttered an animal howl that was carried across the desert
on the breeze as his cock swelled in Zack's mouth and blasted semen down
the back of his throat.  Without once gagging, Zack gulped down his buddy's
semen.

When Randy's massive orgasm abated, Miguel freed him, Zack stood up and
pulled his lover Miguel into a tight hug.  No words were spoken – they
were not necessary – as the men matter-of-factly stuffed their cocks
back in their jeans and buttoned them up.  They exchanged smiles and
fist-bumps, then slung their legs over their bikes, kick-started them into
life and roared back across the desert scrub, watched only by a pair of
hawks wheeling high above them.

The men had simply needed to get their rocks off and, mission accomplished,
headed back to the highway.  They left behind them the stoic clump of
trees, silent witnesses to the homoerotic acts of three horny bikers, one
sprawled over his bike getting spit-roasted by his biker buddies.

<><> MIKE'S BIKER BAR <><>

On previous visits to Mike's leather/Levi bar, men of the tribe had always
caused a stir when they walked in.  And now was no exception as the three
super-hot leathermen strode in together – the swarthy shirtless gypsy,
the black leather-master in a torn gray tank-top stretched over his muscled
torso, and the handsome dark-haired Hispanic, his leather vest hanging over
the slabs of his pecs.

The awestruck bar patrons would have creamed heir jeans had they known that
just an hour ago the rugged gypsy had been splayed over his Harley and
spit-roasted by his buddies.

As it was they were greeted from behind the bar across the room by Mike's
welcoming shout.  "Guys, you made it.  Welcome to the desert."  Randy
strode across the room, leaned over the bar and bear-hugged Mike.  Then he
grinned at the shirtless Larry, tending bar next to Mike.  "Hey, stud,
how's it hangin'?"  He curled his hand round the back of his head and
pulled him over the bar into a voracious kiss.

The customers looked on in envy – they would gladly have changed places
with the young bartender, as Larry was keenly aware.  Randy knew it too and
took pleasure in boosting the boy's image.  When they finally separated
Larry smiled at Randy and said, "Welcome to the desert, sir.  Hi, Zack.
Hi, Miguel."  Many of the men lusted after Mike's handsome, tough-looking
boy, even more so now as the trio's glamor rubbed off on him.

Larry slid beer bottles across the bar to the new arrivals, then continued
serving the customers who now eagerly crowded round the bar to get close to
the three bikers.  Zack and Miguel turned to face the room, leaning back
against the bar, their elbows braced behind them, making their shoulders
and chests flex hard.  They were the center of attention as men came up to
greet them.

A little way down the bar Randy was deep in conversation with Mike.  He and
Mike had an especially close relationship, almost like father and son.
When they first met they had got off to rocky start as Randy had misbehaved
bullheadedly and Mike had ordered him out of his house.  But deep down they
admired and respected each other, the rift had been patched up and Mike was
now the only man in the tribe who ever called Randy `boy'.

"Didn't get to speak to you much in that big crowd at Grady's party," Mike
said.  "So how's it going, son?  You being good to that gorgeous man of
yours?  Bob is one in a million."

"I know it, Mike.  I'm still crazy about him – more every day."

"Wasn't always the case, was it, though?"

"Ah, don't remind me, dude.  When I fell in love with him I didn't know
what hit me and I was scared shitless of losing him."

"So you went all caveman and tried to beat him into submission.  But you
being a good boy now?"

"Mike, I'd give my life for the guy.  I can't imagine life without him."

"I know what you mean, dude. Same with me and Larry."

"How's it going with you two?  You got over those rough spots you've had in
the past?"

"Yeah.  I'm old enough to be his father and I still can't believe that he
chose me to fall in love with.  But look at him now – happy as a pig in
shit, so proud to be on display as a buddy to you three.  When you kissed
him like that his reputation shot up among this crowd. A lot of them lust
for him you know, but he jokes with them and teases them.  You should see
the tips he pulls in."

Mike gazed fondly at Larry, but Randy detected a hint of uncertainty in his
gaze.  Over the years the usually rough-and-ready gypsy had learned from
his lover Bob some of his sensitivity to signs of unease in others.  And
when he did sense it, unlike Bob's deft approach, Randy charged right in.
"OK, Mike, what's eating you?  I know that look.  You still scared Larry
will give in to one of the offers he gets from these guys?"

"Damn, you don't beat around the bush do you, boy?  Nah, it's not that
... well not exactly.  It's kinda complicated.  I'll tell you back at the
house.  This lunch crowd will leave soon, then Larry will hand over to our
assistant bartender and go spend a few hours in his bike repair shop before
coming back here for the evening shift.  He works so damn hard.  I'll come
back to the house with you, get you guys settled in and tell you what's on
my mind."

"And you know Mike, I've got your back, always.  Whatever I can do to
help."

"I know that, Randy.  And I love you for it."

<><> TALKING ROUGH STUFF <><>

Randy, Zack and Miguel left the bar after more ostentatious hugs for
Larry– in genuine affection but also to boost Larry's macho image among
the drooling customers.  Then Larry had gone off to work in the motorcycle
repair shop Mike had helped him set up.

The guys were pleased to get back to Mike's sprawling house a short ride
from the bar to relax a while after their crazy sex out in the scrubland
and then the attentions of the noisy crowd in the bar.  Mike showed them to
their guest rooms.  Zack and Miguel would share one, and Randy would have
one to himself, though Mike knew that could change.

"`Course, it's up to you where and how you end up," Mike grinned.  "No
holds barred in this house.  I'll bring some beers out to the garden for
you.  You wanna change out of your leathers?"

"The beer sounds great," Zack said, "but we won't change yet.  We're still
gonna take a run out to Hassan's house and, er, check out that basement
he's got there."

"Yeah," Mike chuckled, "I kinda thought you would.  And, er, that's partly
what I wanted to talk to you guys about."

They sat at an old table on the lawn under a big shade tree nursing their
beers and Randy said, "OK, old buddy, you got something on your mind, so
spill."

Mike hesitated.  "It's kinda hard to describe.  Might sound kinda weird."

"Mike," Randy laughed, "we invented weird.  You know you can tell us guys
anything."

"Yeah and that's a relief.  You're the only guys I could confide in about
this.  It's about Larry, of course – oh, no problems, he's doing great
and things are terrific between us ..."

"... but," Miguel said.  "There's a `but' in there somewhere, eh, Mike?"

Mike frowned.  "See, I try to do the best for my boy like any man would,
make sure he has everything he needs.  But I'm always aware of the age
difference between us and how he has some feelings – urges – that I
can't satisfy."  He paused and took a swig of beer.

"You've seen what a hotshot he is behind the bar – tight jeans, boots,
no shirt, his torso gleaming under the floodlights over the bar, almost
like he's on stage with an audience drooling at the sight of him.  He comes
across as a major stud, a young alpha jock, a dominant force in the room.
Those leather guys all put on a tough show of machismo, but believe me any
of them would love to get worked over by him.

"So good so far," Zack said, "sounds like he's having a great time
flaunting it – he's a star, lusted over by the whole room.  So what's
the problem, Mike?"

"Ah, well it's something you guys would understand, you being hot alpha
guys yourselves.  You know how top-men sometimes feel an urge to ... well,
to have the tables turned, put themselves in the position of captive,
proving how tough and defiant they can be getting worked over by other
top-men, seeing how long it takes to break him and make him submit.

"It's a classic fantasy, you see it in porn movies all the time.  I don't
mind telling you, before Larry came into my life I used to watch porn and
it was usually about a hot macho icon – soldier, cop, construction
worker – getting stripped, tied up and abused – whipped sometimes,
group-fucked, until the musclehunk is begging for mercy.  Damn," Mike
chuckled, "gets me hard just talking about it.  Do you guys know what I
mean?"

"Hmm," Randy mused, "kinda like a big macho gypsy, a construction boss,
built like a brick shithouse, sprawled over his own Harley and getting
spit-roasted by his biker buddies?"

Mike grinned.  "So that's why it took you guys so long to get here – I
suspected something of the sort.  Just wish I'd been there to jerk off
watching it – much hotter than a porn movie."

"So you see, Mike," Zack said, "we do know exactly what you're talking
about.  So how does Larry fit into all this?"

"Well, to be blunt, that's what Larry wants."

"How do you know, Mike?"

"He told me ... he tells me everything.  I happened to see him once staring
at himself in a full-length mirror.  He was wearing his mechanic's clothes
– greasy jeans and boots and a loose ragged tank top – and he had a
leather collar round his neck.  He was talking dirty to himself, defiant
stuff like, `you can't break me' and `that all you got?'

"Of course I recognized it right away.  We talked about it and I told him
there was nothing wrong about that – provided it was with a man he could
trust.  The two of us tried it but, you know how that goes, we are always
so close and affectionate that it didn't work.  We couldn't stop laughing
and ended up falling on the bed and making love.  We dropped the subject
and haven't spoken about it since.

"But I can see the gleam in Larry's eyes as he looks around the bar at the
rough, tough bikers we get in there.  And that's what scares me, guys.  If
he ever decides to go with one of them ..."

"No, no, no, Mike that mustn't happen," Randy said.  "There are too many
crazies out there – and even if they're not crazy they can lose control
in the heat of the moment and go over the top, really hurt the boy."

"That's exactly my fear, Randy.  Plus, you know, I have my share of enemies
out there – drunks I've thrown out of the bar who feel humiliated and
want to get back at me.  What better way than through my boy?"  Mike got
tearful.  "Dammit, Randy, I love the kid so much it would destroy me if
..."

"No ifs, Mike `cos it ain't gonna happen," Randy said forcefully. "What you
need is a tough dominant guy you can trust – but who can you really
trust these days?  The answer's right here old buddy.  You know you can
trust me and my buddies here don't you?"

"Oh man, I was hoping to hear you say that.  Of course, I would trust you
with my life, Randy – and with my boy.  But more than that, you're an
expert when it comes to the rough stuff.  I mean, when a guy is out to
prove himself and he's defiant, daring you on, talking trash to you, he
might go too far and not know when to submit.  It's kind of a borderline
thing and it's up to the top man to know the boy's limits.  And like I
said, you're the master at that."

Randy grinned at Zack and Miguel.  "So what d'ya think, guys, you up for
teaching a lesson to a tough, arrogant young buck?  Work him over real good
until he begs for mercy?  All that without injuring the kid?"

Zack grinned.  "We've sure got the right place for it – Hassan's
basement.  We were going there anyway, so instead of beating each other up
we'll have a good-looking, muscular young mechanic to fool around with."

"And Mike," Miguel said, "when we're done with him I guarantee he'll run
home to the safety of your arms and make love with you like never before."

Mike looked relieved.  "Damn, I knew you guys could handle it.  But I warn
you, Larry is a tough nut to crack.  He's got a mouth on him and he can
lash out and get real rough.  It all comes from his early days as a young
skinhead running wild on the streets.  When confronted by tough, dominant
men, like cops for instance, his instinct was defiance, proving he wasn't
scared of anyone.  It was a way of rising above his deep-down insecurity of
being one of life's losers

"And he's still got the same bad-attitude impulses deep inside him even
now, especially when measuring himself against tough guys like you.
Personally, I love the bad-boy act he puts on, it's like sex games and I
find it a major turn-on.  But it can feel real to him and he won't back
down, which is why I worry about him."

"Mike," Miguel smiled, "you've just described the sparring contests I have
with my boy Finn.  He used to be a hustler and still has that street-tough
attitude, it's one thing I love about him – he's a challenge.  `Course,
if he comes on like that with other guys it could spell trouble, so I have
to be careful. "

"Exactly, that's what worries me.  So Randy, you sure you guys won't really
hurt him?"

Randy gazed at Mike with his piercing blue eyes.  "Mike, you have my word
on it.  And whatever the challenge he throws out, whatever we do to him and
however mad he makes us, Larry knows we won't hurt him bad `cos he's your
boy and I love you, Mike. "

Mike smiled, knowing for sure that his boy would be safe.

<><> THE MECHANIC INSULTS THE BIKERS – BAD IDEA <><>

A short while later the three men hit the road.  They had actually planned
on going by Larry's workshop as Miguel's bike was giving him trouble.  He
had told the others, "Don't like the sound of it - misfires a bit.  Think
the timing might need adjusting."  So they had a good reason to get it
checked out, and a good excuse to pay Larry a visit.

It was a surprise to Larry when they roared up to his workshop, a converted
garage with the door wide open.  As always, his cock stiffened as he saw
the hot, macho bikers dismount and stroll toward him.

But there was another, subconscious, instinct too, the one Mike had
described.  Larry loved it when these guys came into the bar and he could
show off to the regular customers.  But he pushed back against the sense
that he was in any way inferior to them. In his former street language, he
wanted to be `one of the gang' – or at least to prove to himself that he
was as tough as them – that he had the guts to be one of the gang.

So now that they were here, on his territory, he flexed his muscles and put
on his tough-guy look as he came out to greet them. He was the iconic image
of a young stud mechanic in greasy black jeans and boots, and his old loose
tank-top, his body and face streaked with oil.

Wiping his hands on a greasy cloth his smile had a touch of arrogance and
the word `sir' was not one that sprang to his lips. "Hey, guys, what brings
you to this neck of the woods?  You just wanna get off watching a hot
mechanic at work, like in the movies?"

"Well, that's a bonus for sure," Randy grinned, "but we were on our way out
to Hassan's place in the desert and we stopped by here `cos Miguel's having
a spot of trouble with his bike."

"Oh yeah?  What the problem, man?"

"The engine misfires and there's a kinda rattling sound when it idles."

"Sounds like the timing chain.  Shove over and let me take a look."  The
tone was curt, an order rather than a request, and Miguel got off the bike.

Larry swung his leg over it, and kick-started it.  He revved the throttle a
couple of times and said, "Yeah, the timing chain needs adjustment.  You
know, man, you shouldn't have ridden it in this condition, you could have
ruined the chain.  Some guys think they know all about bikes but they don't
– I see it all the time.  I'll take a look at it."

As he rode the bike into the garage Miguel grinned at Randy and Zack after
this put-down rebuke from the mechanic.  They all saw the machismo act that
Mike had warned them about.

While Larry was on his knees checking the bike out the three men wandered
round the large space looking over the other bikes that were in for
service.  Zack said, "Hey, guys, get a look at this BMW.  Now that is one
classy fucking machine.  He swung his leg over it to get the feel of
sitting on it.  "Hmm, wouldn't mind taking this baby for a spin."

"Hey, get off that bike, man.  It belongs to a customer and I don't want it
messed up.  That goes for everything else in the workshop.  Hands off!"

This was not the friendly Larry who had greeted them warmly in the bar.  It
was an alpha male protecting his turf.  And more than that, it was Larry
throwing out a challenge, the arrogant mechanic Mike had described, proving
that he was their macho equal.

They walked outside, out of earshot, and Randy grinned as he said quietly,
"Damn, this kid really wants it.  He's already insulted you two, something
he would never normally do.  Mike was right, the kid is practically begging
for it.  Did you see that bulge in his pants?  I bet his dick is already
oozing pre-cum.  This could be a real hot scene, guys, but we gotta be
careful.  He needs to be pushed right up to his pain threshold and then a
little bit over it."

"Well you're the expert at that, bro," Zack said.  "We'll take our cue from
you."

They heard Larry shout from the garage and went back in.  "It was an easy
fix, I just had to adjust the timing chain.  Randy, it was kinda dumb of
you to let your buddy ride it in that condition.  I thought you knew bikes
better than that."

Randy snuck a grin at the others.  Now Larry had insulted all three of
them.

"It's idling fine but I need to take it out for a test run to make sure it
behaves at speed."

"Tell you what," Randy said.  "We're on our way out to Hassan's place.  Why
don't you ride Miguel's bike out there with us and he'll ride yours?"

"Sure, why not?  I got time before I gotta go back to work at the bar."
Larry pulled out his own bike for Miguel and tossed him the keys.  He
rolled down the garage door and padlocked it, then straddled Miguel's bike,
kick-started it and roared off without a word.  Zack said to his buddies,
"Damn, the boy's in an all-fire hurry to get out to that basement.  Wonder
why?"  Roaring with laughter they set off after him.

<><> GOING TO HELL <><>

Larry beat them to Hassan's house and was sitting astride Miguel's bike
with a smug smile.  "Runs just fine now," he said to Miguel.  "You're lucky
you didn't fuck it up."

Miguel thanked him, the men got off their bikes and Randy said, "Hey,
Larry, we're gonna go check out Hassan's basement, see if he's made any
changes.  Wanna come with us?"

"To that dungeon, so you guys can tie me up and torture me?" Larry grinned.
"Sure, you don't scare me none.  And last time I was out here to check on
the place I filled the fridge with beer."

Hassan had given Randy his key so he unlocked the creaky front door and
they went into the dark, musty-smelling house.  They grabbed beers from the
fridge went down the stairs to the basement and turned up the red ceiling
lights that illuminated the middle of the room.  "Don't look like
anything's changed," Zack said, as they sat around drinking beer.

Far from being your average basement, the room was more like a dungeon.
The walls and ceiling were painted black, except that there were
floor-to-ceiling mirrors on all four walls.  The ceiling was low with beams
running across it supporting the floor of the room above.  Signs of
previous activity were everywhere.  There were hooks in the beams and the
walls, with ropes and chains hanging from them, plus an assortment of
whips, collars, wrist restraints and other paraphernalia.

"Damn, this is hot."  Miguel was seeing the room for the first time. "How
come Hassan fitted it out like this?"

Randy explained, "It's a reconstruction of the interrogation cell Hassan
used in the Middle East war when he was an Arab soldier and interrogated
Mark, then fell in love with his captive.  When he came to the U.S. he
bought this little place, fitted out the basement like this, then asked
Mark out here so Mark could give Hassan the same treatment as Hassan had
inflicted on him.  It was payback time.  Since then several of us guys have
come out here to use it – when we could find the right victim."

Larry took a swig of beer and gave a sneering grin. "Guess it makes you
guys feel like hotshots, eh, when you're hormones are raging and you need
to play top-man?"

"Guess so," Randy said.  "Makes us feel tough when we've been bad-mouthed
by some punk and wanna show him who's boss.  Don't take us long to break
the guy and have him crawling over the floor begging for mercy."

Larry smirked again.  "You guys think you're such tough he-men, with your
fantasies about breaking a guy.  `Course, that ain't hard when it's three
against one.  In my book that makes a guy a coward."

Randy sighed, got slowly to his feet and looked at Zack and Miguel.  "I
don't know about you guys, but I've just about had it up to here listening
to trash-talk and being insulted – especially by a young punk who I
could break in a heartbeat."

"Oh yeah?" Larry sneered, standing up to face Randy.

"Dude, since we got to your workshop you have insulted us guys one by one
– we know nothing about bikes ... we're dumb for taking the bike on the
road ... guys who think we're hot shit ... cowards.  Man, you don't
bad-mouth any man like and get away with it, especially us guys.  See, that
makes us mad – and you really don't wanna make us mad, boy."

"Or what, asshole?"

"Or this."  Randy suddenly grabbed Larry's neck with one hand and slammed
the other fist hard in his gut, then another.  Larry doubled over coughing,
momentarily dazed.  "OK, guys ... playtime.  Let's teach this insolent
young buck a lesson."

Randy wrapped his arms round Larry's waist in a painful bear-hug, holding
him tight while Zack and Miguel buckled restraints on his wrists and
clipped them to ropes hanging from ceiling hooks, so his arms were
stretched up in a V.  Zack and Miguel casually returned to their seats and
Randy buckled a black leather collar round Larry's neck, then grabbed his
hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look in a wall mirror.

"See that, boy?  You see that guy in the mirror?  The cocky young
grease-monkey don't look so tough now, does he?  You ready to save yourself
a whole mess of trouble and apologize to these guys?"

"Go to hell, asshole," Larry snarled.

"No, punk, it's you going to hell – a hell created by us.  You think
about that while me and my buddies finish our beers."  Randy sat back with
the others and picked up his beer.  "So guys, get a good long look at our
new prisoner.  What do ya think?"

<><> ONE TOUGH SON-OF-A-BITCH <><>

Larry glared at them defiantly and the muscles of his stretched body bulged
as he tugged uselessly at his bound wrists.  "Hot-looking young jock ain't
he," Zack said, taking a swig of beer.  "Shame to spoil that handsome face
and ripped body."

"Yeah, but it's gotta be done," Miguel said.  "Can't let him get away with
the stunt he pulled. He's gotta be cut down to size, made to beg."

As they talked about what they were going to do to him Larry listened with
mixed feelings.  This was what he had fantasized about, had craved.  But
now it was a reality, and that old street-tough arrogance rose up in him.
He always hated to be humiliated, had always fought back against it, and
now, looking at himself in the mirror, helplessly bound, he felt real anger
toward these dominant men.  He would show them – show them in a trial of
strength how tough he could be.  No way they were gonna break him.

"So, asshole, you ready to apologize to us and beg for mercy?"

"Fuck you all," Larry yelled.  "Under all that leather you're nothing –
a bunch of morons playing at being tough guys.  You ain't got the guts to
hurt me. Come on, assholes, take your best shot."

Randy had heard enough.  He jumped to his feet, grabbed a whip from the
wall, a cat o' nine tails, and lashed it across Larry's chest, one side
then the other until the young stud howled in pain.  Randy had chosen the
cat deliberately as its strips of rawhide hurt less than a bullwhip would
have, but it still stung enough to bring tears to the boy's eyes.

When Randy stopped he pushed the handle under Larry's chin, forcing him to
look up and stare at the reflection of the bound mechanic.  His tank had
been ripped off one shoulder and now hung loosely from the other, his
exposed body already showing faint whip marks among the smears of grease.

"You ready to say sorry, boy?"  Randy punctuated his words with light slaps
across his cheeks.  "You ready to beg for mercy?"

Through gritted teeth Larry said, "Go to hell."

"You hear that guys?  Come here and give me a hand.  We gotta teach this
guy a lesson."

Zack and Miguel stood up and each grabbed whips.  Randy ripped the rest of
the ragged tank from Larry's chest so it fell in shreds round his waist.
Then all three men began to whip him –his bare chest, his back and ass
– not heavy strokes, but the sheer number of lashes from all sides
falling on him simultaneously made him howl again like a wounded animal.

Finally Randy called a halt.  "Guys, this one real tough mother-fucker –
we ain't gonna break him like this.  We'll take a breather then work on
that hot ass of his.  They stood back, grabbed their beer bottles and
stared at the muscle-jock, his torso striped by whip lashes, but still
clenching his jaw in a look of angry defiance.

Zack growled, "Man, I wanna wipe that look off his face.  I wanna see the
kid stripped naked."

"No problem, bro," Randy said.  "You two get his boots – mind the
kicks."

They knelt at his feet and Zack wrapped his muscular arms round his legs
while Miguel pulled off the boots.  Randy ripped open Larry's jeans and
pulled them down round his ankles, leaving the shreds of his torn tank
hanging round his waist.  Larry's cock sprang out hard as a rock."

"Damn, will you look at that, guys?  The stud gets off on it.  Getting
roughed up turns you on, eh boy?  You want more?"

In reply Larry spat full in Randy's face.  The gypsy roared, "Fuck you,
asshole," and slapped his face hard from side to side.  Then he slapped his
long, stiff cock that bounced under the blows and made his handsome face
wince in pain. "Zack, you get his ass while I grab the nuts."

Randy wrapped his hand round Larry's balls and pulled on the sac.  His
laser-blue eyes bored into the young mechanic and he flinched.  And that
was the moment when Larry bonded with his captor and realized what Randy
was doing.  He was doing this for Mike – for Larry and Mike.  "Fuck," he
murmured.  "Fuck!"

Randy too had a new realization.  As he gazed at the savage strength in
Larry's eyes he saw his younger self – saw the same grit and
determination.  And he knew where it came from – from Larry's earlier
life running wild on the hostile streets where he had to be tough to
survive.  Randy's strength too had been forged on the hardscrabble streets
of west Texas as an itinerant gypsy protecting himself and his brothers
with his fists.

This room had been constructed by a man, Hassan, who had interrogated and
tortured a soldier, and in the agonizing process, captor and captive had
fallen in love.  And that same dynamic was in play now as Larry felt that
otherworldly mix of emotions – rage, resentment, but at the same time a
counterintuitive savage love for his captor.

Larry was trapped by the gypsy's hypnotic eyes, unable to tear himself
away.  He felt powerless ... and resented the feeling like hell.  He
yelled, "That all you got asshole?  You're never gonna break me – I'm
too tough for you."

Randy yanked his balls harder and Larry gritted his teeth.  Behind him Zack
slapped his ass until red handprints rose on the bouncing white globes.
Randy's deep voice growled, "My buddy has this long, thick black hunk of
prime beef between his legs, dude.  It's like a weapon, and he's gonna
shove his dick in your sorry ass.  And you're gonna keep looking in my eyes
while you feel that shaft driving down your chute.  Go for it, Zack."

It was a point of honor for Larry not to flinch from the intensity of
Randy's gaze.  He barely blinked as he felt the massive cock enter him, and
Zack's muscular arm folded round his neck from behind.  As the rod started
to piston inside him there was even a trace of arrogance in his gaze as he
stared into the hypnotic blue eyes.  "Fuck you, boy," Randy growled softly,
more in admiration than anger.  "You are one tough son of a bitch.  But
I'll get you."

Larry braced for more abuse and was stunned when Randy sank to his knees in
front of him, and was even more shocked at what came next.  "Pound that
ass, Zack," he shouted. "I wanna make the insolent young jock bust his
load."  Larry's cock was pointing straight at Randy's face.  He licked the
pre-cum oozing from the head and pulled back, stretching out a fine thread
with the tip of his tongue.

Larry stared down in awe at the sight of the stubbled jaw sagging open as
Randy lowered his mouth on his cock.  The boy had rarely seen anything as
erotic as the gypsy's swarthy sculpted face moving down and back on his
cock, swallowing it deep in his throat, his shaggy black hair falling over
his face as he sucked dick.

His defiant attitude faded as he felt the black leather-master's rod
pile-driving his ass while the construction boss ate his cock.  For the
first time he lost control ... he couldn't hold back.  Suddenly Randy
pulled his mouth off his cock, grabbed Larry's cock and pounded it hard in
one hand, still squeezing his balls with the other.  Larry stared down at
the seductive blue eyes staring up at him and he howled ... "aaagh!" ... as
his cock erupted and blasted jizz full into the gypsy's rugged face.

He could hardly believe the pornographic sight of Randy's face streaming
with cum, and he braced for more punishment.  Randy yelled, "Miguel, take
over from Zack and plough this man's ass.  Larry felt one cock slide out of
him to be replaced by another that was soon driving into him with the same
intensity.

But, even though Larry's cock had drained, Randy was still stroking it
hard.  The feeling was intense, painful, and then got worse as Randy took
his hand off his balls and started running it over the tip of his cock.
The head of his cock was now ultra-sensitive after his orgasm and the touch
of Randy's hand rubbing it created a new kind of agonizing pain, worse than
any whip.

"No," he yelled, "I already shot my load.  Stop ... stop ... aaagh!  No
... I can't ... no ...."

"All you have to do is submit, boy.  You're finished, I've broken you.  You
gotta give up ... say it, man ... say the word ... submit."

Larry's eyes blazed down at him and he yelled, "Fuck you, man, I'll never
submit.  You'll never break me ... aaagh! ... fuck you ..."

"Damn," Randy roared.  "Damn you, boy."  He shot to his feet and said.
"Cut him down guys."

Amazed at the turn of events Zack and Miguel unhooked Larry's wrists and he
crumpled to the floor.  Randy hooked his boot under him and flipped him
over on his back, the tough mechanic bruised and battered but still unbowed
and defiant.  "Hold him down guys," Randy growled as he ripped open his own
jeans and pulled out his huge, iron-hard dick.

He stared down at the young muscle-jock, naked except for the ragged tank
round his waist, his wrists pinned to the floor above his head by Zack and
Miguel kneeling behind him.  "Now you're gonna submit to me, boy.  Everyone
surrenders to this."  Randy dropped to his knees behind Larry and pushed
his legs back.  My buddies didn't cum in your ass, so you get a dry fuck,
kid."

Larry's shouts echoed round the room as Randy drove his thick dry cock
inside him.  The bruised mechanic struggled to free himself from the men
holding him down but knew that he was at the mercy of this wild-eyed gypsy
and the brutal shaft ramrodding his ass.

"Now submit, boy.  This is how I break a man.  You already emptied your
load but I can make you cum again.  And when you do I wanna hear the word
submit.  Get it?"

"No, sir.  You won't break me.  I'll cum for you because I want to, because
I love you.  But you'll never make me submit."

"Damn you, boy!"  Randy was angry and frustrated by his failure to break
the boy.  He understood now how a man could lose control with a boy like
this, as Mike had feared, but he had promised Mike no real harm would come
to him.  And the last thing Randy wanted was to hurt Larry.  He respected
his strength and courage, the traits he always admired in a man, the same
guts and grit he himself had built up over the years.

So the climax was savage and quick.  "Look at me, boy.  The steel blue eyes
penetrated Larry's just as his cock penetrated his ass.  Randy hammered him
right up to the edge of his pain threshold, then said. "I'm gonna cum in
your ass, kid, and I wanna watch you shoot another load.  It's not a
submission, it's a celebration – of two tough men who never give up,
never submit to another man.  You ready, bro?"

Randy pounded his ass, Larry was lost in the hypnotic blue eyes ... and
their orgasms were simultaneous.  Randy blasted a hot load in his ass as
Larry's cock erupted for a second time all over his writhing body.

Zack and Miguel released him, knelt on either side of him and stroked their
cocks.  They smiled at each other, then down at the naked mechanic and
blasted jizz in his face, a homage to the guts and endurance of this
defiant young buck – Mike's boy."

<><> LARRY'S A STAR <><>

Randy stood up and gently pulled Larry to his feet.  He wrapped his arms
round him and held him tight until his body stopped trembling, then he
kissed him, long and hard.  When he pulled back he smiled into Larry's
eyes.  "Un-fucking-believable, dude.  Damn you're tough.  Are you OK?  I
promised Mike you'd be OK."

Larry grinned broadly.  "Never better, sir.  On top of the world."

Randy raised Larry's arm high.  "What do you say, guys?  One of us?"

"Damn straight," Zack grinned.  "Definitely one of us."

"Sir," Larry said.  "I gotta get back to the bar and start work."

"You sure you're up to it, man?"

"Sure," he grinned. "I don't call in sick just because I got tied up,
tortured, gut-punched, whipped and gang fucked.  But would you guys do me a
favor and come into the bar with me before you go back home with Mike?"

Randy knew why Larry asked that and willingly agreed.  Larry pulled on his
jeans and boots but left the ragged tank still hanging round his waist.  He
also did not take off the collar.  They closed up the house, straddled
their bikes and roared off into town – four shirtless bikers, with Larry
triumphantly in the lead – definitely one of the pack.

When they walked into the bar they caused a minor sensation.  There was
Larry in the company of the three hottest biker hunks ever to set foot in
the place – and they had obviously been working Larry over.

He took up his position behind the bar under the spotlights looking like
he'd just stepped out of a porn movie – a handsome muscle-jock stripped
to the waist, his body streaked with oil and striped with marks of the
whip.  His shirt had been ripped off him and hung in shreds round his
waist, and he still had a slave collar round his neck.

The customers could only fantasize about what it was like getting
manhandled by this trio, and a crowd gathered eagerly round the bar.  Larry
was a star and played the hell out of it, exuding machismo and flaunting
his striped body as he served their drinks.

"You had a good time, kid?" Mike asked quietly next to him.

"What does it look like sir?" Larry grinned roguishly.  "Er, sir, when we
go to bed tonight and make love, is it OK if I fuck you?"

Mike smiled, "The way you look right now, stud, you can do what the hell
you like to me."

Mike left Larry alone behind the bar to bathe in the adulation of the
crowd, and joined his three friends.  "Guys, how can I thank you?  Look at
him.  I've never seen him so pumped up, you must've given him exactly what
he needed and now he looks like the toughest guy in town.  Feels like it
too."

"Man, your boy is one tough young buck," Randy said.  "We threw everything
at him and couldn't break him – he wouldn't submit.  New experience for
me – one of my failures."

"No, Randy, your biggest success. Damn, he's having the time of his life
– and is he ever gonna be raking in the tips tonight."  Before they left
Randy went up to the bar for a parting shot.  He grinned at Larry,
"Whenever you want pay-back time, buddy, just say the word.  I'll be all
yours."

Leaving a stunned crowd behind him Randy joined Mike and the others in the
parking lot.  "Oh, before I forget, Randy," Mike said, "Bob called and when
we get back to the house he wants you to call him."

"Nothing wrong, is there?" Randy asked in alarm.

"Nah, nothing like that.  On the contrary, he's having a great time with
the twins – you know he's having a mini-vacation with them and Will.
And, er, they're gonna be spending time with Mark and Jamie, who are also
kicking back for a few days."  Mike watched Randy's reaction carefully.

"None of my business, of course, but I know how it is with Bob and Mark
– you know, so close and all.  So, er ... are you OK these days with Bob
and Mark spending time with each other."

"Sure I am, Mike.  We settled all that a long time ago.  We all three love
each other so I'm OK with whatever they do."

"Yeah, good.  I think he just needed to hear that from you, buddy."

"Sure, I'll talk to Bob.  I'll tell him to have a good time with Mark
... whatever they do."

Mike was not entirely convinced and rode back to the house deep in thought.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 515

Hey guys, this is Rob Williams. I hope that chapter got you off, and I
welcome your comments and suggestions, which can be very helpful in
planning future chapters.  E-mail me in confidence at rw6789@aol.com.

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can read the whole story, with extras including pictures and biographies of
all the characters.

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